


i will color you in old maroon

by moonrise31



Series: once, twice, and again until it's over [27]
Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F, mimo but not really, ot9 mentions of course, sahyo if you squint, time for vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:01:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24802012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonrise31/pseuds/moonrise31
Summary: In which Tzuyu has learned that living as a vampire is mostly an upgrade -- until one of their own starts terrorizing Seoul, and Nayeon brings it upon herself to be the one to stop it.
Relationships: Chou Tzuyu/Im Nayeon
Series: once, twice, and again until it's over [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/935700
Comments: 5
Kudos: 150
Collections: Push & Pull: A Natzu Writing Collection





	i will color you in old maroon

**Author's Note:**

> yes it's another vampire fic and no i will not apologize for it, at least not profusely
> 
> natzu is love natzu is life

One perk of working the night shift at the convenience store, Tzuyu supposed, was that the harsh fluorescent light illuminating the narrow aisles and walls of freezers did an excellent job of disguising how pale she was. The bulb directly over her spot at the cash register flickering at an almost epileptic frequency for the past two hours added further to the desolate atmosphere, but it was hardly a bother when she hadn’t gotten a headache in years. 

The night passed quietly, as usual; this street corner was less frequented than most, and Tzuyu liked not having to put on her best service-with-a-smile for too long. With five minutes left in her shift, the door swung open, batting against the bell hanging from the doorframe. Tzuyu made eye contact with the newcomer, rolling the lollipop in her mouth to her other cheek as her last customer of the night gave her a cheerful wave. 

Tzuyu knew Momo because she was yet another one of the vampires in Nayeon’s impressively wide circle of friends and acquaintances. But Momo was also one of Tzuyu’s favorites, if only because even submitting to the dreariness of nocturnal immortality had done little to cool the warmth in Momo’s soft, unassuming stare as she shot Tzuyu a grin. “Good evening.”

Tzuyu nodded in return, watching as Momo slipped into one of the closer aisles. She reemerged a few moments later, tossing a bag of gummy bears onto the checkout counter. 

The plastic crinkled underneath Tzuyu’s fingertips as she scanned the packet and held out a hand. Momo placed a few bills onto her open palm. “Slow night?”

“It usually is.” Tzuyu counted out the appropriate change. Momo pocketed the coins, tucking the gummy bears between her side and the crook of her elbow. The receipt printer took a few seconds to spit out its required slip of paper, which Tzuyu then crumpled up and tossed into the wastepaper bin beneath the counter because Momo never asked for it. Tzuyu lifted her chin at the gummies under Momo’s arm. “Are those for Mina?”

“Yeah.” Momo’s mouth twitched into a brief smile. “She still hates how blood tastes, but sucking on hard candies all the time makes her cheeks hurt.”

Tzuyu dropped her now bare lollipop stick into the bin, too. “Maybe I should try that.”

“They stick to your fangs way too easily, if you ask me.” Momo wrinkled her nose. “Does the taste of blood still bother you?”

Tzuyu considered it for a moment. “Not really. But it wasn’t until after my first hunt that I really couldn’t hate it anymore.”

“The first hunt is always something,” Momo agreed, and the bag of gummy bears crackled as she shifted. 

The digits on the old computer monitor in front of Tzuyu finally hit three o’clock. She immediately turned to grab her jacket from the chair behind her, already hearing the university student slated to take the next shift scuffing the bottoms of his sneakers with every dragging step down the sidewalk a block from the store. “Weren’t you scheduled to go hunting tonight? Are you already finished?”

Momo shrugged. “Sana dropped by and told me I better not go out tonight, so I came here instead. I’ll just have to get more blood bags from Dahyun.”

Tzuyu paused, one sleeve of her jacket still hanging loosely from her shoulders. Sana didn’t have any special kind of authority, but a suggestion from her was as official as a visit from Jihyo herself. “Is something wrong?”

Momo shrugged again. “She didn’t say. But we’ll probably hear about it sooner or later.” The bell rang again as Tzuyu’s replacement shuffled into the shop. Momo cleared her throat. “Do you want to come by, actually? Mina always likes it when you visit.”

“Okay,” said Tzuyu. She politely brushed by the student as she rounded the counter, sparing him a nod before joining Momo on the customer side of the cash register. He didn’t even look up from his phone, carelessly shrugging off his own coat before slumping into the chair. Tzuyu had barely exchanged two sentences with him since they’d first met a few weeks ago, and she always forgot to remember his name when she checked the work schedule. Then again, it felt easier to leave him as a nameless phantom glowing in the flickering fluorescence: a ghostly stand-in for the last years she’d spent as a human.

Momo worked as a night manager in a nearby apartment building. Mina lived on the twenty-fourth floor, and Tzuyu only knew this because Nayeon had recruited her to help Mina ease into her new existence as a vampire as of last Thursday. This resulted in Tzuyu dropping by almost every night after her shift to talk and see how Mina was adjusting, and maybe eventually convince her to take a step past the threshold of her front door.

“Here,” Momo said after they stepped into the lobby of the building. Tzuyu blinked at the bag of gummy bears held out in front of her. “You should take them to her,” Momo explained, soft eyes shifting to the ground between them. “I have to head back to work.”

“You could come with,” Tzuyu said even as she let Momo push the gummy bears into her hands.

“I have work,” said Momo, again. “You know her room number, right?” She waved Tzuyu towards the elevators before returning to her spot at the reception desk.

Tzuyu didn’t think of much else until she found herself knocking on Mina’s door. “Tzuyu!” The door swung open. “I could hear you coming all the way from the elevator. Which is still kind of weird, I’ll admit, but it seems useful.” 

Tzuy smiled back at Mina, who was an exact replica of the Mina in all the photos Momo still kept saved in her phone -- a shy, wide grin on a small face and smaller frame, tonight swamped in a large gray hoodie -- and Tzuyu had to stop herself from crumpling the bag in her grip until it was nothing but one big lump too sweet to swallow.

“These are for you,” Tzuyu said instead, holding out the gummy bears. Mina’s grin brightened further, and she stepped back to let Tzuyu inside. Tzuyu pretended not to see the sad slant to Mina’s smile as she accepted the packet.

“How’s Momo?” Mina asked without turning her head, her back now to Tzuyu as she retreated further down the hallway. Tzuyu swallowed, her hesitation smothered by the sound of ripping plastic. She wrinkled her nose as the odor of artificial fruit scented her next inhale, sticky and saccharine. 

“Momo is doing okay,” Tzuyu managed once she’d caught up to Mina in the living room. Mina had returned to her corner of the couch, the spot next to her already outfitted with a pillow and blankets for Tzuyu to make herself comfortable with. “She would have come up, but you know.” Tzuyu tried for a shrug. “Work.”

Mina poked her tongue against the inside of her cheek as she frowned, undoubtedly working the remains of a gummy bear around her recently sharpened canines. “I see.” And from the sudden slump in her shoulders, Tzuyu knew that she had.

“She misses you,” Tzuyu said before she could stop herself.

Mina paused, one of her cheeks still hollowed out. 

“Those are from her.” Tzuyu gestured towards the opened pack of gummy bears in Mina’s hand. “She bought them, and then said I should give them to you when I came by.”

Mina dipped her head slightly, the intensity of her stare all but melting the plastic packaging. “Not that I don’t enjoy your company, but why can’t she give them to me herself?”

Tzuyu raised her shoulders in a helpless shrug. “I think she’s trying to give you space.”

“I don’t need space,” said Mina, quiet voice dimming until Tzuyu almost couldn’t hear her over the sluggish sloshing of borrowed blood flowing through their veins. “I need my girlfriend.”

Tzuyu swallowed. “Mina.”

Mina set the bag of gummy bears carefully on the side table, lifting her fingers one by one from the wrinkled plastic. “How come you and Nayeon get to be together?”

Tzuyu shifted, the texture of the couch rough beneath her palms and through the fabric of her jeans. “Nayeon happened to be there when I was turned, but she’s not my sire.”

Mina’s jaw tightened. “My feelings for Momo haven’t changed, you know. Not at all.”

Tzuyu dipped her head -- Mina wasn’t looking at her, anyway. “I know.”

“They haven’t changed,” said Mina, fingers curling, “but when I think about them now, something inside me burns like it’s trying to eat me alive.”

“Momo turned you into a vampire by giving you some of her blood.” Tzuyu sounded robotic to her own ears, as if she was reciting lines for a school presentation. “So being with her would be like, well.” Tzuyu stopped, searching for words that might hurt less than the only ones she could think of.

“I know.” The couch dipped as Mina drew her legs up. She hugged her knees to her chest and rested her chin on top. “It would be like incest, right? Between a parent and their child.”

Tzuyu winced. She let out a breath, and then settled with, “It would hurt the both of you.”

“Yeah.” Mina’s stare unfocused, trailing off to somewhere through the television in front of them. The colorful characters in the game Mina had been playing waited patiently, perpetually paused on the glowing screen. “But I’m already hurting.”

From the beginning, Tzuyu had wondered why Nayeon thought she was the right person for this. Helping Mina learn all the ways life was now enhanced vampirically was one thing -- a challenge Tzuyu herself had barely conquered -- but accompanying Mina as she worked through this strangling kind of despair was hardly something Tzuyu felt qualified for.

She didn’t even know what to say.

Finally, Tzuyu risked shifting a little closer, her left knee bumping against Mina’s right foot. Mina turned her head, and Tzuyu raised her arm as an invitation.

Mina slowly leaned sideways, sinking into the hug. Her hair fell over her face as she rested her head on Tzuyu’s shoulder. 

“It’s complicated,” Tzuyu finally said. “And I don’t understand it any more than you do.” She tightened her hold around Mina’s shoulders. “But I’m glad that Momo saved you, because otherwise you’d have bled to death. And I know that she would do the same thing again if she had to.”

_It’s complicated_ , Nayeon had said to Tzuyu after Mina’s first night as a vampire -- after they had watched Momo break the news to Mina, who hadn’t even had the chance to change out of her bloodsoaked blouse. Nayeon had said it in the same way she might try to explain why she’d saved Tzuyu instead of just killing her to end her savage rampage post-transformation. Which meant that she might be better at talking to Tzuyu about it one day, but Tzuyu would be left feeling around in the dark until then.

“I’m glad she did, too.” Mina sighed, the strands of hair in front of her face fluttering with her breath. “I hate muggers.”

“His blood didn’t taste that great,” Tzuyu admitted. But she refrained from mentioning that she had definitely enjoyed the aftermath of Nayeon convincing Jihyo to make an exception in the hunting schedule for them that night.

Mina gave a disbelieving sort of laugh. Then she huffed. “I think I bit my lip again.”

The small whine in Mina’s voice tugged Tzuyu’s mouth into the slightest smile. “Fangs take a while to get used to.” She glanced at the side table. “Do you want another gummy bear?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to blood.” Mina sat up to grab the opened bag. “It’s just so metallic.”

“It’s an acquired taste,” Tzuyu said. She leaned forward to pick up one of the controllers sitting on the coffee table. “You’re playing this game again?”

Mina grinned, and Tzuyu had never felt so relieved to see a smile. “Actually, now that you’re here, there’s this new game I’ve been wanting to try out.”

The next hour saw Tzuyu trying to understand the latest first-person shooter Mina had downloaded. She made a face after Mina -- yet again -- successfully eliminated her via headshot. “Wow, look at the time. I’ve suddenly realized that I should be leaving.”

“I think you’re more of a sore loser than I am,” said Mina, chuckling as she stood up to walk Tzuyu to her door. “But it’s getting late, so you actually should go.”

“For someone who really hates the taste of blood,” Tzuyu said as she slipped on her shoes, “you really don’t mind seeing a lot of it.”

Mina laughed. “It’s not real blood, Tzuyu.”

“Are there any vampire-themed games, then?” Tzuyu asked, her curiosity mostly legitimate -- although from the horror stories she’d heard from Chaeyoung, the more popular vampire-themed media floating around since Tzuyu’s childhood still left much to be desired.

“I could check,” Mina said. She gave Tzuyu another smile. “Thanks for coming to see me. And for -- you know. Everything.”

“It’s nothing,” said Tzuyu. She stepped forward to hug Mina once more. “Really.”

Momo was absent from the front desk when Tzuyu passed by. Once outside, she stood on the empty sidewalk for a moment, breathing in the quiet of pre-dawn Seoul. The streets were never completely clear, with the occasional delivery truck rumbling by or a crowd of late-night wanderers who’d finally decided to leave the bar mixed in with those already dressed and ready to face the incoming day.

The sun was rising more quickly than Tzuyu would have liked, and she barely managed to duck into her own building before the rays seared a lasting mark on the back of her neck. Nayeon was already inside the apartment when Tzuyu opened the door.

“There you are.” Nayeon beamed, but her kind of sunlight soothed Tzuyu’s skin as she swept in closer, hands already reaching for Tzuyu’s waist. “If you’re going to be out this late, you should at least remember to bring some sunscreen.”

Tzuyu spared a glance at the bottle sitting by the bowl she’d tossed her keys into; Jeongyeon’s formula didn’t provide much protection against UV rays, but it did temporarily prevent a painful, ashy death by disintegration for those unlucky enough to be caught outside during the day. “I’ll remember it next time. I stayed at Mina’s a little longer than expected.”

Nayeon hummed. Tzuyu’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment as she breathed in the smell of smoke and spices that always clung to Nayeon’s skin long after she finished helping her favorite ahjummas sell street food amidst the bustling Seoul nightlife. Nayeon’s fingers slipped easily between Tzuyu’s as she tugged them both towards the kitchen. “How’s she doing?”

“Not bad,” said Tzuyu. Nayeon relinquished her hand to open the refrigerator door, and Tzuyu leaned against the counter by the sink. “But I wouldn’t say she’s doing well, either.”

“It’s barely been a week. She just needs time, and so does Momo. But then they’ll have a talk and it’ll all get sorted.” Nayeon straightened, holding out a blood bag. “Have you eaten?”

“I’m not that hungry.” Tzuyu waited until Nayeon had returned the blood bag and closed the refrigerator before brushing her fingers lightly up the other girl’s spine, her other hand already tugging Nayeon closer by the hem of her shirt. “Can we just sleep now?”

Nayeon laughed. “Of course.”

To Tzuyu’s chagrin -- and Nayeon’s infinite amusement -- their height difference led to hugs that often ended with Nayeon’s face smushed into Tzuyu’s shoulder or Tzuyu having to bend down awkwardly just to meet Nayeon’s lips. It was not only annoying but also a little distressing, because Nayeon as a person was so much larger than the haven encircled by her arms, and at the end of the night all Tzuyu really wanted was someone safe to sink into.

So when Tzuyu fell into bed next to Nayeon, she rolled over immediately in search of the other girl. Nayeon helped by shifting closer, arm draping over Tzuyu’s waist as Tzuyu ducked under Nayeon’s chin. Tzuyu hummed, nuzzling closer still and sighing as Nayeon surrounded her: her hand now running through the few knots in Tzuyu’s hair, the tickle of her jaw pressed lightly against the crown of Tzuyu’s head, the muted lethargic drumbeat of her undead heart that filled the pauses in Tzuyu’s own rhythm.

“I know you’re a vampire, but you really do have a thing for my neck,” Nayeon murmured. She laughed as Tzuyu whined without lifting her head. “Sorry. We can sleep now.”

But then their doorbell rang. Tzuyu’s eyes snapped open.

“Ignore it,” Nayeon suggested, and Tzuyu knew that she meant to.

Tzuyu sighed and slowly untangled her limbs from Nayeon’s. “It might be important.”

“It’s five in the morning,” said Nayeon as they exited the bedroom, “and there is really only one thing that is legitimately five-in-the-morning important.”

Tzuyu covered a yawn with her hand. “What would that be?”

“Honestly, at this point. I will only accept a visit from Park Jihyo herself.” Nayeon opened the front door, only to stare blankly at the girl standing on the other side of the threshold. “Hello, Jihyo.”

“Nayeon, Tzuyu.” Jihyo bowed her head slightly. “Sorry for visiting so late, but I couldn’t get away from the council meetings until now.”

Tzuyu had only met Jihyo a handful of times, but she knew that when one of the most powerful vampires in the world smiled at her, she should smile back.

Nayeon, meanwhile, rolled her eyes. “Please tell me why we’re standing here talking to you instead of cuddling in bed, cheesily falling asleep to the sound of each other’s breathing.”

“You can listen to my breathing instead,” Jihyo offered, deadpan. Then she cleared her throat. “I’ll make this quick. Nayeon, we need you to track down your sire so that we can kill her.”

Nayeon’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

Jihyo crossed her arms. “Jung Sooyeon has gone rogue. She’s been killing humans indiscriminately, all over the city, and no one else has been able to track her down.”

Tzuyu’s eyes widened. “That’s why Sana told Momo not to go hunting tonight.”

Jihyo nodded. “All scheduled hunting has been called off to deal with this.” She turned back to Nayeon. “You’re the last surviving vampire of all the ones she’s ever turned, so we need you to use your sire connection to find her and stop her from slaughtering half of Seoul’s human population.”

“Jihyo,” said Nayeon, voice low. Tzuyu stilled; she’d never heard Nayeon sound so stern. “You’re asking me to help kill her.”

“It will hurt,” Jihyo agreed. “A lot.” Her eyes flicked briefly to Tzuyu before returning to meet Nayeon’s stare. “But others have survived.”

Tzuyu wanted to reach out, to hold Nayeon’s hand or elbow or just the edge of her sleeve. But she didn’t quite know what to make of the flat, chilly silence Nayeon had fallen into. She clenched her fists instead, her fingernails digging deep crescents into her palms.

“I suppose this is an order,” Nayeon finally said, tone light and almost contemplative.

Jihyo shook her head. “The council agreed that this is the most logical course of action.” She shifted, the sharpness in her stance melting with her next words. “But you’re also my friend. So if you don’t want to be involved, I’ll convince them to find some other way.”

Nayeon closed her eyes for a few moments. Tzuyu swallowed, and then quietly reached out to wrap her own hand around the fist curled at Nayeon’s side. She ran her thumb along the whitened knuckles; Nayeon was much too pale already.

Slowly, Nayeon’s fingers uncurled, and Tzuyu let them go again. Nayeon exhaled, opening her eyes again, and then nodded at Jihyo. “If she has to be killed anyway, I might as well be the one to do it.”

Jihyo’s mouth thinned into a grim line. She tilted her head, eyes searching. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Nayeon said. She smirked slightly. “But only because Park Jihyo, our greatest and most esteemed leader, admitted that I’m her friend.”

Jihyo scoffed. But then she stepped forward, pulling Nayeon into a quick hug. “Thank you. Any help that you need, I’ll get it.” She pulled back slightly. “We’ll talk more in the evening, alright? You are not doing this alone, by any means.”

“We’ll talk more,” Nayeon promised, reaching up to rest her hand on Jihyo’s head for a brief moment. Then she stepped back, holding out the bottle of sunscreen. “Now put this on, or there won’t be any of you left for Sana to cling obnoxiously to when you get home.”

Jihyo rolled her eyes, but did as instructed. And even after their door had closed again and they’d made their way back under their covers, Tzuyu could still hear Nayeon thinking. So she found Nayeon’s collarbone and murmured into it. “Are you okay?”

“Of course I am,” Nayeon said, sounding far away as she carded her fingers through Tzuyu’s tangle-free hair. “Go to sleep.”

“Okay,” said Tzuyu, tucking her face back against Nayeon’s neck. But she didn’t close her eyes until Nayeon’s hand finally stilled, landing limply on the mattress behind Tzuyu’s head as the both of them succumbed to exhaustion.

-

Everywhere Tzuyu looked, the world glowed red. It painted her vision a deep, blinding crimson and screamed itself bloody along every nerve in her entire being. Her nose filled with a dark, creeping scent that dripped acidly onto her tongue. Her head buzzed and throbbed, like there was a drill spiraling into the base of her neck and sending a spiderweb of cracks along the entire surface of her skull.

Formless shadows loomed in the corners of her eyes, but slipped out of sight whenever she turned to face them. She tried to focus instead on the chasm still ripping open inside of her head, yawning wider with every ragged inhale she forced from her ever-collapsing lungs. One shape -- so intensely red that it singed Tzuyu’s vision black instead -- rushed at her with an ear-splitting screech. Tzuyu lashed out with one hand; whether she wanted to push it aside or tear through it in a desperate bid to replace the abyss breaking her brain in two, she didn’t know. 

Her attacker dissolved around her outspread fingers with one last dissonant wail. It echoed against her temples, each reverberation sending a red-hot jolt lancing through her gritted teeth and down through the joints in her toes. She charged at the next nearest shape, the muscles in her face aching with her twisted grimace as she ripped apart one shadow after another. 

Her throat burned, torn raw from the scarlet agony bubbling up from deep inside her chest. She just wanted it to stop; if only the red would stop. If only it would stop looking and screaming --

and biting and tearing and being -- 

if only she could stop -- 

Tzuyu woke up.

Judging by the gap in the curtains Nayeon was never bothered to completely close, there was still an hour or two until sunset. Tzuyu had rolled onto her back sometime during the day, and she now lay stiff-limbed and sweat-chilled under their shared blankets. Nayeon mumbled next to Tzuyu’s ear, the arm she still had slung across Tzuyu’s waist shifting slightly as she kicked a leg over Tzuyu’s to pull herself closer.

Tzuyu let out a long, slow breath. The room stood quietly, their walls painted Tzuyu’s favorite shade of blue. Her dream had faded back into some distant corner of her subconscious -- but it always felt closer than she would like, and what she wished for the most was to be able to forget it once and for all. 

Nayeon murmured sleepily into her ear, repeating some snippet of the boy group song she’d been listening to on repeat for the past week. Tzuyu’s stomach grumbled, and Nayeon’s grip on her tightened. A few seconds passed as Nayeon slowly came to. Then her hand withdrew slightly, sliding along Tzuyu’s abdomen until she could poke at Tzuyu’s belly button. “Are you hungry now?”

“I could drink a bag or two,” Tzuyu said, reaching down to stop Nayeon’s prodding. 

“Great.” Nayeon sluggishly withdrew herself from Tzuyu’s limbs, and then sat up with a yawn. “I’ll warm some up.”

“I can do it,” said Tzuyu, slipping out of bed and searching for her slippers. “It’s still early, so you can sleep some more.”

Nayeon shook her head. “Tonight’s the night I have to track down Sooyeon, so I might as well start early. Oh, here.” 

Nayeon kicked Tzuyu’s slippers over to her side of the bed as she passed by on her way to the window. Tzuyu nudged at the slippers with her toes until they were oriented correctly. “When are you going to meet up with Jihyo, then?”

“I’m not,” said Nayeon. She reached out to tug the curtains completely closed. But the last strip of sun fell onto her exposed wrist as she did so. She hissed, jerking her hand back. “That _burns_.”

Tzuyu frowned. “You should stop doing that.”

“I’m fine,” said Nayeon, abandoning the remaining curtain gap to shuffle towards the bedroom door. “We’re going to have breakfast, anyway.”

Tzuyu did manage to convince Nayeon to at least wrap her wrist in clean cloth to protect the reddened skin; even with fresh blood in her veins, it would take the better part of the night to heal completely. While Tzuyu fussed over the best way to knot the bandage, Nayeon kept an eye on the two mugs of blood heating in the kettle on the stove -- as if they hadn’t figured out years ago the exact time needed to warm their drinks perfectly to human body temperature -- and gently tugged her arm out of Tzuyu’s grasp when the blood was ready to be poured into their waiting mugs.

They sipped in content silence, Tzuyu laughing when Nayeon accidentally drank too fast and almost spilled blood down her shirt.

“So why aren’t you going to talk to Jihyo?” Tzuyu asked later, rinsing their empty cups out before depositing them in the nearby drying rack. A quick peek through the blinds above the sink revealed the dusk cooling into early evening. It still baffled Tzuyu sometimes -- how she could do nothing to pass the time but sit next to Nayeon at the kitchen counter, warm both from her drink and the company of the one person she saw a literal forever with, and hours would pass before she remembered to count them.

Nayeon licked the last of the blood from her lips, and Tzuyu briefly regretted choosing the dishwashing over stealing her first kiss of the evening. “She’s got enough on her plate as it is, and we don’t need to get anyone else involved. It’s bad enough that you’ll be coming along.”

“Who said I’m coming along?” Tzuyu asked, schooling her expression into a well-practiced picture of innocence. But Nayeon only raised her eyebrows, and Tzuyu relented with a sheepish grin.

“It won’t be easy to kill her,” said Nayeon as they exited the kitchen. “And I have to be the one to do it.”

“Shouldn’t it be me?” Tzuyu reached around behind Nayeon to snag her keys from the bowl by the front door, and then bent down to slip on her shoes. “Since it would hurt you to kill your own sire.”

“It’ll hurt me either way. And if you think I’m letting you get close enough for her to potentially kill _you_ ,” said Nayeon as she opened the door and stepped over the threshold, “you should think again.”

“If I’m coming along anyway, of course I’m going to help.” Tzuyu locked the door behind them before falling into step with Nayeon. Together, they walked down the hall towards the elevator. “And I won’t let her kill me.”

“You’re coming along so you can haul my ass out of there if she starts to win.” Nayeon jabbed the button on the elevator panel with a finality that made Tzuyu bite back her prepared retort. “You can’t let her kill me, either.”

Tzuyu swallowed, the evenness of Nayeon’s words settling bitterly in the back of her throat. “I won’t.”

They stepped out of their apartment building minutes later. Nayeon hummed as she looked up and down the street before turning to the right. “I don’t know where she’ll be hunting tonight, but it’s somewhere that way. Let’s get onto the rooftops.”

“What’s it like? The feeling?” Tzuyu asked as they ducked into the nearest alley. “How is it that you can always know at least vaguely where your sire is?”

“It’s hard to describe,” said Nayeon, backing herself up against one of the alley walls. “I suppose it’s just a subconscious thing, always there in the background until you think to focus on it. And then it’s sort of like a string tied around your finger, ready to pull you in if you want it to, but weak enough that you can also choose to let it go again.” 

“Oh,” Tzuyu said. She watched as Nayeon sprinted straight at the opposite building. Just before she would smack into it, Nayeon lifted one leg up and braced her foot against the wall, knee bending until it almost pressed into the brick before she pushed off. In another few seconds, Nayeon had dashed up the length of the entire building, her figure cast in white and black by the moonlight above as she landed safely on the rooftop. Tzuyu took a breath before quickly following.

“She’s that way,” said Nayeon as soon as Tzuyu landed next to her, and they were off again. 

Tzuyu generally avoided hopping buildings during her regular commute to work, which meant the only time she could indulge herself was when it was her turn on the schedule to go hunting in the city. But the rush of fresh wind against her face now still fueled her adrenaline more than the excitement of chasing down live blood, and being able to run beside Nayeon made Tzuyu’s grin so wide that her cheeks ached in a way she normally could no longer feel.

They crossed almost half of Seoul, abruptly halting just before the buildings emptied out to the northern bank of the Han river. Tzuyu nearly knocked Nayeon over, but managed to avoid both running into her and toppling off the building as she slid to a safe stop.

“She’s here,” Nayeon said. She stood completely still, every muscle tensed as she braced herself against the safety railing, eyes flitting between the shadows stretching across the ground tens of stories below them. Tzuyu settled next to her, leaning against the railing as she also scanned for any suspicious movement. Nayeon suddenly turned, grabbing Tzuyu’s elbow firmly. “Remember to stay back.”

Tzuyu met her gaze and nodded. Nayeon released her, and then leaped over the railing and straight into the alley below.

The blackness in the back of the alley remained still, but Nayeon only stared intently. After a few moments, the dark shifted, and a woman stepped into the moonlight. Her fangs glinted as she smiled and Tzuyu, tens of stories above, took an instinctive step back. “Hello, Nayeon.”

Nayeon dipped her head. “Sooyeon.”

Sooyeon crossed her arms and leaned back on one leg, as if she was having a conversation with a friend she’d run into on the street. “I suppose you haven’t found me on a whim.”

Nayeon said nothing at first, and even from this far above, Tzuyu easily spotted her narrowed eyes and clenched jaw: a lone wolf unsure of whether she was the hunter or the hunted. Nayeon swallowed audibly before she answered. “You’re killing humans against our laws. If you don’t stop, there’s only one thing left for the council to do.”

Sooyeon scoffed. “Did Jihyo really send you all by yourself to try and kill me? I understand her need to abide by these antiquated rules, but sending you alone is hardly intelligent.”

“You’re right, Jihyo’s much smarter than that,” said Nayeon. “But I’m not, which is why I’m here. So, please. Don’t make me do this.”

“Well, that’s the thing, isn’t it.” Sooyeon’s smile sharpened. “No one’s making you do anything, Nayeon. Not me, or Jihyo, or whatever human morals you’re still clinging to.” She lifted her shoulders in a careless shrug. “We’re free to do whatever we want, whenever we want. Not even the powers of the universe can stop us.”

“There’s a balance,” Nayeon pressed. “A catastrophic war is always just on the horizon, and the only thing preventing it is us remaining the stuff of human horror stories and mediocre teen romances.” 

Sooyeon leaned forward, her smirk curling her lip in a way that made Tzuyu think of a lion entertaining its next meal. “And what if there is a war, hm? We would win before the humans had a chance to realize that their very worst nightmares have become terrifyingly true.”

“It didn’t work before, and it won’t now,” Nayeon spat back. “You were already around when they tried in Europe, centuries ago. Vlad Tepes, Elizabeth Bathory -- both staked to death within a human lifetime as soon as they thought to get greedy.”

At that, Sooyeon laughed -- a dark sound that carried upwards and slithered back down the length of Tzuyu’s spine. “But _you_ were not around then, so you wouldn’t know that the only reason the humans succeeded was the undercover vampires practically holding their hands every step of the way.” She clicked her tongue. “There may be a balance to keep, Nayeon, but it’s not the one you’re thinking of.”

Nayeon swallowed again, and Tzuyu watched her knuckles tighten even further. “You won’t win.”

“That’s hardly the point,” said Sooyeon, voice as smooth as tar, “I know that history may very well repeat itself. And I am more than willing to let it.”

Nayeon stiffened. “What?”

“Jihyo is the one who will win in the end,” Sooyeon said lightly. “As the council always has, regardless of whether their laws are ill-informed.” Her smile twisted. “So I’ll pay for it all sooner rather than later, just as my sister already has.”

Nayeon’s jaw clenched, the tendon in her neck standing out, its shadow stark against her skin. “Sooyeon --”

“Don’t start,” said Sooyeon, her tone sharp and cold. “You and I both know that the only reason my sister couldn’t rip the throats out from the useless necks of each of those gangsters,” her voice lowered to a venomous hiss, “is because it wasn’t her designated time on the schedule.”

“I know,” Nayeon began weakly. “It’s something that shouldn’t have happened.” 

“But it did happen,” Sooyeon cut in. “She lived by the council’s rules for over five centuries, and now there isn’t even a speck of her dust left in this city to show for it.”

Nayeon said nothing, her fingers slowly curling into fists. Tzuyu couldn’t find it in herself to completely disagree, either.

“I am angry that she died, Nayeon.” Sooyeon’s voice sliced quietly through the air of the lonely alley. Her sneer dimmed into a wistful smile, a silver sliver of the full moon above. “I have no intention of existing in a world where a vampire can still perish by human hands for adhering to the laws meant to protect those very same humans.”

“Okay,” said Nayeon, muted.

Tzuyu saw it just briefly: the moment Nayeon gathered what she could of her resolve. Then Tzuyu blinked, and Nayeon was already halfway across the ten or so meters between her and Sooyeon at the other end of the alley. Her arm reached ahead, fingers outstretched and aimed at Sooyeon’s heart.

Sooyeon didn’t move.

Or at least, Tzuyu didn’t think she had. But then Nayeon yelled -- a sharp, high cry that drove an icicle straight through Tzuyu’s chest -- as she was thrown back against the wall below where Tzuyu stood. The brick crumbled inwards against the impact, and the vibrations shook Tzuyu to her core.

She spared no time to think. Suddenly she was thirty stories lower and crouched next to the wall, cradling Nayeon’s head gently as she drew Nayeon closer to her own body. Nayeon’s right arm lay limp, bent at an unnatural angle, but Tzuyu tried not to look at it directly.

“Adorable.”

Tzuyu’s head snapped up. She glared at Sooyeon through the cloud of settling dust. Then Nayeon groaned, and Tzuyu immediately looked back down, brushing the hair out of Nayeon’s face.

“I’m not expecting this to stop you,” said Sooyeon. She stepped closer, looming over them both until she eclipsed the moon above. Smiling, she bent down, tilting Nayeon’s chin up with one hand. Tzuyu tensed.

“Tzuyu,” Nayeon croaked. “We have to leave. Now.”

“There’s no rush,” Sooyeon said airily. She let Nayeon’s chin drop back down. “I’ll leave you and your pet alone until you decide to come after me again.”

Nayeon jerked up. She grunted, her good hand immediately lifting to press against her side. “Do not talk about Tzuyu like that.”

Sooyeon held up her hands. “I’m only describing what’s in front of me.” She raised her eyebrows. “We’ve already discussed it, remember, on the very night you saved her. So if your idea of a relationship is this half-baked case of Stockholm syndrome, that’s your own business.”

Nayeon growled. “I will kill you.”

“Go ahead.” The sly curl of Sooyeon’s smirk returned. “You can kill me because the council told you to, or because your so-called girlfriend sees you as her dark knight in midnight armor.” Sooyeon tilted her head, shoulders lifting in another careless shrug. “But once you succeed in slaying your own sire, you’re only proving that the laws in our world are meant to be broken after all.”

Sooyeon disappeared long before Tzuyu noticed her absence. Her parting words hung heavier in the alley than a funeral sermon, but they meant nothing to Tzuyu next to the sudden stoniness that shrouded Nayeon’s face. Tzuyu was familiar with the look, and just as familiar with the fervent wish to wipe it away and relieve Nayeon of her most self-loathing doubts.

“Should we go to Jeongyeon?” Tzuyu finally asked.

Nayeon flinched, and then turned her head to show Tzuyu a tired smile. “Yeah, I think that would be good.”

Nayeon made Tzuyu help reset her arm before anything else -- heightened regeneration abilities were a double-edged sword, and ignoring it now only to have to re-break Nayeon’s arm later was a task Tzuyu very much wanted to avoid. Nayeon’s vampiric constitution seemed to have saved her from any other shattered bones, but she favored her right leg heavily as Tzuyu helped her stand. Tzuyu remembered the way Nayeon had grasped at her left side earlier, and a fresh wave of anxious concern surged through her own limbs.

“I’ll carry you,” Tzuyu said. She helped Nayeon onto her back, careful not to jostle the other as she straightened. Then she took off as fast as she dared.

“She’s wrong, you know,” Nayeon mumbled into Tzuyu’s hair, barely audible over the rush of wind in Tzuyu’s ears.

“I know,” said Tzuyu.

“I’m not talking about all the killing,” Nayeon continued, her words slurring at the ends of her sentences. “I mean, that’s bad too, yeah. But I didn’t save you because I wanted anything from you.”

“I know,” said Tzuyu again, pumping her legs a little harder, willing herself to run a little faster. “Save your breath, please.”

“You know, right?” Nayeon pleaded. “Right, Tzuyu? I mean yeah, you killed your sire, and almost tore Sana’s head off, but it wasn’t your fault.” She huffed into the side of Tzuyu’s neck. “It was just so unfair to you. What kind of idiot can’t even turn a human properly?”

“I’m very happy that you saved me.” Tzuyu panted slightly, her lungs burning in a way she hadn’t felt in years. Nayeon hummed, somehow sounding offkey even though she was defining the melody. Tzuyu shifted her grip, feeling Nayeon settle a little more comfortably on her back. “Stay with me, okay?”

Jeongyeon’s house stood on the quiet outskirts of Seoul, separated enough from her nearest neighbors that none would bother to be curious about the strange, limping visitors she’d receive much too late at night. Tzuyu didn’t think to call ahead, but Jeongyeon was already waiting with the door open by the time Tzuyu sped up her front walkway. 

“Shit, Nayeon,” said Jeongyeon once Tzuyu had laid Nayeon onto the living room couch. “I could hear you groaning from kilometers away. What the hell did you do?”

“Got a little beat up,” said Nayeon, wincing before covering a weak cough with her fist. “But I’ll be okay.”

“Sooyeon grabbed her by the arm and then launched her into the wall,” Tzuyu said, fingers restless until they found the hem of her shirt to worry at. “I think her arm is okay now, but her right ribs are probably at least bruised -- I didn’t look.”

Jeongyeon glanced up from where she was crouched by Nayeon’s side. She’d lifted the edge of Nayeon’s shirt, and Tzuyu could now see the purple, mottled skin angrily spreading across Nayeon’s abdomen. Jeongyeon reached out with her free hand and took one of Tzuyu’s. “You did great, Tzuyu,” she said gently. “It’s bad, but I’ve seen much worse, so it won’t take me long to have her healing properly. Would you mind waiting in the kitchen? Dahyun’s here too, and she could use some company.”

Tzuyu managed a nod. 

Jeongyeon squeezed her hand once before releasing her. Then she turned back to Nayeon. “And you. Are you fucking crazy? Jihyo is going to murder you.”

Nayeon’s retort was lost to Tzuyu as she entered Jeongyeon’s kitchen. Dahyun was already seated at the table, a mug cupped between her hands. She held it out as Tzuyu slid into the chair across from her, but Tzuyu shook her head.

“Nayeon will be okay,” Dahyun said, even as both of them winced at Nayeon’s abrasive expletives from the other room. Tzuyu shot Dahyun a wide-eyed look, and the other girl raised her shoulders in a tentative shrug. “Jeongyeon has to, uh, operate in order to make sure all the internal stuff is arranged to heal properly. It still hurts, obviously, but a surgical cut is a lot faster to recover from than just waiting for your natural regenerative abilities to figure out which organs were shoved out of place when you got injured.” 

Tzuyu’s grimace deepened. “Isn’t there anesthesia, at least?”

Dahyun shrugged again. “Painkillers don’t really work for vampires. But she’ll be perfectly fine by tomorrow, so I’d like to think that her cursing of Jeongyeon’s ancestors will be revoked in just a few hours.”

Tzuyu nodded, watching as Dahyun lifted the mug to take another sip. Dahyun reminded Tzuyu of Momo -- how she never let any of the coldness of her skin also seep into her heart. As one of the vampires working at the city’s blood bank, Dahyun was a face Tzuyu ran into much more often than she did some of Nayeon’s other close friends, so Tzuyu talked to her enough to know things like how Dahyun had been volunteering at the blood bank already as a human, and got very little sleep even during the day because she kept up with her shifts even now.

“You look like something is bothering you,” said Dahyun. She paused to allow Nayeon’s latest string of curses wail to maximum volume, and then fade back into pained silence. “I mean, besides the obvious.”

Tzuyu pressed her lips together. “Nayeon means to kill her.”

“Her sire?” Dahyun hummed. “That’s brave.”

“What about it?” Dahyun raised her eyebrows, and Tzuyu hesitated before rephrasing her question. “I know it’s difficult, because it’s not meant to be done. But what -- what’s going to happen to her when she does it anyway?”

Dahyun set her mug down, the bottom clacking dully against the cracked varnish of Jeongyeon’s antique kitchen table. “I thought you’d know already.”

A haze of red flashed through Tzuyu’s vision. “Everyone tells me I killed my sire right after he turned me, but I don’t remember much.”

“Right.” Dahyun winced, and then idly swirled the leftover blood in her cup with one hand. “It does feel sort of similar to when you’re turning, I suppose. But feeling your sire die is maybe closer to having all the blood in your veins turning into liquid silver, like you’re going to burn to ashes from the inside out.”

Tzuyu frowned; she remembered Nayeon spending at least a week taking care of her in the aftermath, and that was only counting the days when she’d been conscious enough to notice. But Tzuyu was always told that her transformation had been a rare situation -- a particularly stressful mix of physical and mental overreactions due to her simultaneously murdering the vampire that had turned her. It made some sense, as Mina had recovered within minutes after Momo had bitten her, but did little to reveal how much Nayeon would be affected by becoming Sooyeon’s killer. “How long does it usually last? The pain?”

Dahyun shrugged. “I would say that it’s pretty quick, but physical distance matters, and I wasn’t anywhere near my sire when it happened.” 

“Oh.” Tzuyu’s attention drifted back to the living room, where she could hear Nayeon’s shuddering, shallow breaths. “I’m -- I’m sorry? Were you close to him?”

Dahyun laughed, reaching over to pat Tzuyu’s hand. “It happened more than a decade ago, Tzuyu-yah. I’d say he was the closest I could get to having a father after I was turned, but I could never care for him in the same way.”

Tzuyu could only manage a nod -- it had been a while since she’d thought of her own parents. The police had declared her missing only five years ago, so Tzuyu sometimes still saw her high school graduation photo rendered in newspaper pixels or in the corners of postcard advertisements. Early on, Nayeon had offered to take her back to her family -- the visit would have to be approved by Jihyo, but Nayeon could win just about anything from her with a well-used pout or two, and humans adapting well to a relative-turned-child-of-the-night wasn’t unheard of. And yet, Tzuyu had seen the statistics reflected clearly in Nayeon’s eyes, and decided that living in perpetually dwindling hope would be better for her parents than not living at all. 

Dahyun cleared her throat. “There’s also the fact that I wasn’t the one to stake him.”

Tzuyu met her gaze again. “It hurts more if you’re the one to kill your sire?”

“That’s what I’ve heard.” Dahyun shrugged. “Think of it like trying to destroy the one thing you’re never meant to even entertain the idea of destroying.”

Tzuyu never liked dreaming while she was awake, so she refrained from thinking of it at all. “What Nayeon’s going to do will be terrible for her, then.”

“Incredibly,” Dahyun agreed. Then she tried for a grin. “But she has you, right?”

“She does,” said Tzuyu. The air settled around them, and Dahyun took the time to drain the last mouthfuls of blood from her mug.

“Sounds like they’re done.” Dahyun stood up. “Want to go check out the damage?”

Tzuyu followed her into the living room. Nayeon still lay on the couch, eyes closed, her chest rising and falling in an even rhythm. Jeongyeon looked up as they walked in, wiping her hands on a burgundy towel. “She just needs to stay here and rest for the day. I can make up the guest room for you, Tzuyu.”

“I’m off, then,” said Dahyun, giving them a wave before disappearing into the front entrance hallway. 

Tzuyu grabbed Jeongyeon’s wrist before the other could head upstairs. “I’m not really that tired, so I can just stay in the living room for the day. You don’t have to go through more trouble.”

Jeongyeon turned, laughing as she pulled Tzuyu in for a one-armed hug. “You don’t have to be so formal, you know. I’ve been saving Nayeon’s ass for the last sixty years, so none of this is really new.”

“I know.” Tzuyu blinked, suddenly unable to swallow. “It’s just --” She managed a breath. “It was really scary.”

“It’s okay to be scared,” Jeongyeon said. She turned her head to press a quiet kiss into Tzuyu’s hair. “I’m scared, too. And so is Jihyo, and Dahyun, and everyone else.”

Nayeon shifted then, her left arm lifted to pat at the back of the couch a few times before she settled again. Tzuyu watched, worrying at her bottom lip. “Does she really have to do it by herself?”

“She’s a stubborn idiot,” said Jeongyeon. The arm she had around Tzuyu squeezed a little more tightly. “Stupidly loyal, and much too kind. Which means she’ll yell at you to watch out for that rock up ahead, and then trip over it herself not five seconds later.”

“I could find Sooyeon now,” said Tzuyu suddenly. “There’s still a few hours before dawn.”

Jeongyeon raised her eyebrows. “So you’re crazy, too.” She stepped back so that they were facing each other, taking Tzuyu’s clenched fists in her own hands and rubbing her thumbs against blood-drained knuckles. 

Tzuyu whispered, “I just want her to be safe.” Her fingers loosened, and she let them slide into Jeongyeon’s warm grasp.

Jeongyeon tilted her head, eyes shining curiously as they met Tzuyu’s. “You really love her, don’t you?”

“Of course,” said Tzuyu.

Jeongyeon stared at her another moment, and then grinned. “She’ll be glad to hear that.” 

Tzuyu frowned. “But I already --”

Jeongyeon nudged her closer to the couch. “Help me carry her to the guest room. There’s no way either of you aren’t sleeping in a bed when I have a spare one ready.”

“Sooyeon is still out there,” Tzuyu said again, even as she carefully slid one arm under Nayeon’s head.

“Jihyo is too,” said Jeongyeon. “And the council members. You won’t have to worry about anything more until evening.”

Tzuyu easily lifted Nayeon by herself, so Jeongyeon was free to walk ahead of them to open the door to the guest room and help tuck Nayeon into bed. Before she left, Jeongyeon instructed Tzuyu to try and keep Nayeon lying on her back, although not much could significantly aggravate her injuries at this point. 

But minutes after Tzuyu slid under the covers, Nayeon shifted and reached to her side again. This time, Tzuyu met her halfway -- carefully tucking Nayeon against her own body, resting her chin on top of Nayeon’s head. Tzuyu fell asleep to the exhales softly, steadily warming her neck against the chills threatening to otherwise shake her out of her skin. 

On the other side of Jeongyeon’s heavy window curtains, a new day dawned. And Tzuyu slept dreamlessly.

-

When the two of them entered Jeongyeon’s kitchen the next night, Sana was the only one sitting at the table.

“This isn’t exactly how I wanted to begin my evening,” said Nayeon, grumpily accepting the mug Sana handed to her.

“What were you expecting?” Sana said as she held out another cup for Tzuyu. “Jihyo was ready to storm over here, daylight be damned, but I convinced her that yelling at you until your eardrums burst would be counterproductive to your healing process.”

“You have my everlasting gratitude.” Nayeon drained the rest of her drink before placing the empty mug into Jeongyeon’s sink. “But you’re here now to bring my eardrums to their doom anyway, I see.”

Sana shrugged cheerfully. “Hey, I tried.” Nayeon stuck her tongue out in response, and Sana had no qualms about returning the favor.

Sana’s general manner was a sincere if peculiar one, happily offering a dose of her playful eagerness to anyone she happened to lay eyes on. Tzuyu had tentatively sorted her into the same subset as Momo and Dahyun until a few years ago, when all of the Seoul vampires had gathered for their monthly town hall, and an ill-tempered man with an ugly sneer had made fun of Momo for entering a serious relationship with a human. 

His snide remarks had barely registered with Momo -- much less anyone else present -- but it was already enough time for Sana to throw him across the entire room. It had taken both Nayeon and Jeongyeon to hold her back from probably bashing his face in, and she’d only stopped straining against them at a stern word from Jihyo. 

Needless to say, Tzuyu was quite thankful that she continued to remain on Sana’s good side.

“Are you done, Tzuyu?” Sana held out a hand for Tzuyu’s empty mug. “I’ll wash these now so Jeongyeon doesn’t whine that we dined and dashed.”

After bearing witness to Sana’s surprisingly efficient dishwashing skills, the three of them stepped into the night, ready to return to the heart of the city. They took advantage of their enhanced speed when they could, and hopped rooftops once the buildings began to cluster more densely around the center of Seoul. Sana supplied easy small talk the entire way, the flow of conversation distracting Tzuyu from the more stressful events the night before. It was also almost enough for Tzuyu to forget where they were headed; Nayeon had dropped enough tidbits over the last few years for Tzuyu to know that as head of the council, Jihyo worked nights at the city morgue.

“It’s funny that humans never think to look up,” said Sana as they slowed, and then dropped ten stories into the alleyway below. “We could have an entire war along the city skyline, and they would never notice.”

“Let’s hope we won’t ever have to test that,” Nayeon said as she approached the door they’d landed in front of. She quickly keyed in the code, and the door unlocked with a metallic click. Sana stepped inside first, and Nayeon ushered Tzuyu through as well before she closed the door behind them.

Jihyo’s office stood just across the hall from where they’d entered. Tzuyu glanced warily at the blinking red light of the security camera hanging in one corner, but Nayeon tugged her into its line of sight anyway, assuring Tzuyu that the footage would get erased later.

“Great, you’re all here,” Jihyo said, offering Sana a brief smile. Then she stood from her office chair, coming around to the front of her desk so that she could lean back against it. The sleeves of her white lab coat wrinkled crisply as she folded her arms, and Tzuyu recalled what little vampiric history she knew -- how the council leaders in Europe centuries ago had taken up residence in the crypts and mausoleums underneath the grandest churches, because there was no better place to monitor human deaths and whether vampires might have something to do with too many of them. 

The morgue was perhaps the best imitation Jihyo could manage considering the era and location, but Tzuyu couldn’t help but think that there was nothing good about only being surrounded by blood that smelled old and dead.

Jihyo, meanwhile, had Nayeon pinned with a glare. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

“I’d like to think that my high level of combat skill had something to do with it,” Nayeon sniffed. 

“You were lucky,” said Jihyo. “If you charge after her this recklessly one more time and manage to come out of it still breathing, I’ll give up my seat on this damn council.”

Nayeon scoffed. “No one else would want it.” She straightened, folding her arms to mirror Jihyo’s stance. “Look, you asked for my help, and I’m helping. What happens to me as a result doesn’t matter in the end.”

A cold shock cracked harshly through Tzuyu’s bones, leaving her helpless and wide-eyed while Nayeon’s expression remained impassive.

“It does matter,” Jihyo bit back, just as fiercely. “It was my mistake ever asking you to handle this personally, and I’m sorry for that. But the council will take care of this matter without your further assistance.”

“How?” Nayeon demanded. “You told me just two nights ago that you were having trouble tracking her down. You _need_ my connection with her.”

Jihyo’s lips thinned. “Jung Sooyeon is smart, so she knows not to kill in the same place twice. Between where you saw her last night and the other areas she’s struck already, we’ve narrowed down the remaining regions of the city she might show up in tonight, and there are council members waiting at each location.” The edge in her voice softened slightly. “So you don’t need to put yourself in danger anymore, Nayeon.”

Tzuyu carefully watched the clench of Nayeon’s jaw. But finally, Nayeon let her arms fall to her sides. “Fine, have it your way. As long as no one gets --”

Sana jumped to one side as the office door suddenly burst open. Chaeyoung stumbled in, a sizable scrape already healing above one eye while she clutched at her bloodied left shoulder with her other hand. “That lady is,” she panted in between grimaces, “so strong.”

“I’m calling Jeongyeon,” Sana said, bringing her phone to her ear. Chaeyoung slumped backwards then, and Sana barely caught her before she fell to the floor. 

Nayeon was at Chaeyoung’s other side in the next second, supporting her bad shoulder. Tzuyu couldn’t tear her gaze away from it, because the only reason Chaeyoung would still be bleeding from a wound like that was if her arm had been almost completely torn off. And to see Chaeyoung crumpled on the ground -- whiter than white, teeth scowling painfully, chest heaving as if each breath was too great an effort -- was so far off from the carefree grin and crinkle-cornered eyes Tzuyu was used to, she couldn’t push herself to do anything but deny the reality in front of her. 

“Hey, you’ll be okay,” Nayeon murmured. “Shit, Sooyeon really did this to you. Do you want some blood? Jihyo, you have blood somewhere in here, right?” 

Jihyo was already moving, and now tossed a bag from somewhere behind her desk. Nayeon caught it and ripped into the plastic with her teeth, holding the opening to Chaeyoung’s gasping lips. 

“You were near Dongdaemun, right?” Jihyo waited for Chaeyoung’s nod before taking out her own phone. “I’ll redirect everyone there.”

“Don’t bother,” said Nayeon. 

Jihyo paused. “What?”

“Tzuyu, can you make sure she drinks the rest of this?” Nayeon asked gently. Tzuyu blinked rapidly, shaking herself. Then she nodded, rushing to take Nayeon’s place. Sana cradled Chaeyoung’s head at the right angle while Tzuyu let the remaining blood flow into the injured girl’s mouth.

“Nayeon!” 

Tzuyu looked up at Jihyo’s shout -- but Nayeon was gone, the door back to the alleyway already clicking shut. 

Jihyo cursed, tossing her phone onto the table. “No one is picking up.”

Chaeyoung coughed. “Those old geezers check their phones maybe once a night.”

“Jeongyeon’s on her way,” said Sana. “But it’ll still take her half an hour or so to get here.”

“I’ll be fine until then,” Chaeyoung grunted, and the familiar steadiness in her tone calmed Tzuyu’s trembling fingers. Chaeyoung shifted so that she could sit up better. “Tzuyu, you should go after her. Yeri managed to get away, but that means that there’s no one else around.”

Tzuyu nodded immediately. She handed the rest of the blood to Sana as she stood up.

“Tzuyu,” said Jihyo.

Tzuyu stilled, and then turned back to look at the council leader.

“Jihyo,” Sana said softly. “I think you should let her.”

“Are you crazy?” Jihyo growled, eyes practically ablaze. “ _I’ll_ go. And the others will pick up eventually, so we’ll have enough to overpower Sooyeon --”

“It might be crazy,” said Sana reasonably. “But there are some things that will always defeat logic. Right, Tzuyu?”

Tzuyu found herself nodding. “I have to. Jihyo, I have to go after her. Please.”

Jihyo stilled, the fire in her stare wavering.

“Yeah, she does,” Chaeyoung cut in, voice muffled by the plastic blood bag between her teeth. “I only trust Tzuyu to take revenge and rip Jung Sooyeon’s arm off for me.”

Jihyo’s phone screen lit up. She glanced at the message, and then took a deep breath. She nodded curtly. “Sunmi and Seulgi are also on their way. They should reach at around the same time, so you’ll have backup when you decide to do something rash.”

Tzuyu gave a quick bow. “Thank you.” She sped out the door and then the building, dashing up the alley wall faster than she’d ever climbed.

Nayeon was already far out of sight, but Tzuyu already knew to head for Dongdaemun. She strained her senses as she closed in, rooftop after rooftop speeding by beneath her feet as she searched for anything that might tell her where Nayeon had run to.

There -- the scent of the night market stalls that Nayeon was never quite able to get rid of, at least to Tzuyu’s nose.

(It was one of the first things Tzuyu could authoritatively say that she liked about Nayeon -- how she helped the ahjummas selling ddeokbokki and corn dogs in return for what ended up amounting to pocket change. Maybe Nayeon got along so well with them because they’re of the same age -- in mind, if not in body. Or maybe Nayeon just liked the rowdy atmosphere of food and crowds and gossip. 

In either case, something about the glow of warm frying oil and bursting laughter was colored into Nayeon’s cheeks before she’d made herself at home there, and realizing this years after they’d met was the first thing to make Tzuyu’s own face burn with a sudden wave of phantom heat.)

The lights of the shopping centers ahead forced Tzuyu’s eyes into a squint as she landed next to a flickering neon sign advertising a reception hall. But it was still enough for her to just make out Nayeon’s moonlit silhouette before the other girl hopped off of the rooftop a few buildings ahead, the cloth Tzuyu had wrapped around her arm two nights before flashing a brief, blinding white.

(One thing Tzuyu would never understand is how Nayeon always did things without thinking about herself: brushing by a sunbeam as if she’d forgotten that she would get burned, despite the thousand and one times she’d scolded Tzuyu for almost doing the same -- or chasing down a dangerous killer for the sake of a friend, even at the cost of dangling her own infinite string of fate in front of the universe’s sharpest shears. 

Tzuyu would always be thankful, but she would never understand why Nayeon had thoughtlessly but fiercely hugged a rampaging, newborn vampire, snugly wrapping her in the kindness reserved only for the greatest losses -- and refused to let go until all of the red clouding Tzuyu’s head melted away for good.) 

And there it was: the tense tempo of Nayeon’s heart underneath her just-healed rib cage. Tzuyu let each beat draw her in, a pulsing magnet that she’d run towards over and over again. 

She landed on the rooftop Nayeon had just vacated with too much force, skidding to a stop only with the help of the safety railing. Still, her momentum bent her over the edge, pitching her head forward enough for her to catch a glimpse of Nayeon facing down Sooyeon in the alley below. Tzuyu swallowed, the irony of deja vu not lost on her, and braced herself as the familiar throbbing reverberating inside Nayeon’s chest beat against her eardrums, quickening even further.

(“Vampires don’t blush,” Nayeon had scoffed in response to Tzuyu’s curious observation that her face had turned a shade pinker than their anatomy should allow. “There isn’t enough blood in our bodies for that.”

Tzuyu had let it go then, because her _we should go on a date sometime_ had been admittedly out-of-the-blue, even to herself. Which is why Tzuyu thought later that maybe it was the sound of their hearts jumping in tandem that had tinted Tzuyu’s otherwise perfect vision.

Not that she minded, because she thought the color suited Nayeon just fine.)

“I suppose you haven’t come because you’ve changed your mind,” Sooyeon said mildly. Her hands were clean, but a ring of dark crimson dyed the hem of her jacket sleeve. 

“You hurt Chaeyoung,” said Nayeon after a pause, unexpectedly quiet. 

“She probably attacked first,” said Sooyeon.

Nayeon frowned, fingers curling. “Does anything matter to you anymore?”

“To be frank,” Sooyeon hummed, “nothing at all.”

Nayeon lunged. But Sooyeon still moved quicker, stepping to the side to let Nayeon dash by. Nayeon immediately swerved, the soles of her shoes scraping roughly against the asphalt. She kept her hands raised in front of her, watching Sooyeon.

“When you’re ready,” Sooyeon offered.

Nayeon burst forward again; Sooyeon remained rooted to the ground this time. But as Nayeon neared, her hand flashed upward. Nayeon twisted away just enough to avoid the swipe at her ribs. Unfortunately, the alley was narrow and her momentum was still running high; Nayeon threw her punch at a nearby garbage dumpster instead, the impact cratering the wall with the ear-splitting crunch of collapsing metal. 

“I’m sorry,” Nayeon shouted, fist still buried in the side of the dumpster.

“You’re sorry?” Sooyeon barked a laugh as she turned to face Nayeon again. “Whatever for?”

“I’m sorry that your sister died,” said Nayeon, panting slightly. She pulled her hand back, shaking it out as she faced Sooyeon once more. 

Tzuyu registered the slight shift in Sooyeon’s stance a split second before Sooyeon dove at Nayeon. Trapped against the disfigured dumpster, Nayeon was forced to pass around Sooyeon in order to dodge the incoming blow. She ducked to one side and threw herself back, almost clearing Sooyeon’s reaching hand. But then Sooyeon’s elbow swung out, catching Nayeon’s shoulder with enough force to send her flying across the alley.

Nayeon landed heavily in a precarious pile of junk; Tzuyu winced at the resulting crash. But Nayeon quickly stumbled to her feet again, wobbling slightly. She had a metal rod in her hands now, leaning on it as she regained the rest of her balance. 

“I’m sorry that the world is terrible,” Nayeon coughed once, and then met Sooyeon’s cold stare. “And I’m sorry that the world has made you terrible, too.” 

Tzuyu saw the shift again. Her muscles moved before her brain, propelling her over the safety railing and straight into the alley. Sooyeon sensed her just in time, barely sidestepping enough to escape Tzuyu dropping on her head. But Tzuyu twisted her torso to follow, already reaching out with both hands. 

She pivoted as soon as she landed on the asphalt, pushing herself across the remaining distance. When her searching fingers found purchase on Sooyeon’s shoulders, Tzuyu planted her feet firmly and twisted her entire body back around, launching Sooyeon against the opposite wall. 

Nayeon, a few meters away, jumped back as Sooyeon crashed against the brick; Tzuyu was a bit disappointed not to see it crack even a little. Sooyeon groaned, bringing a hand to cradle the side of her head. Nayeon stiffened, her grip around the metal rod tightening. 

“Now!” Tzuyu screamed. “Now, Nayeon!”

Nayeon exhaled. “I’m sorry,” she said, and drove the rod straight through Sooyeon’s chest.

Tzuyu knew that her own heart would be hammering if it could. But her blood was too foreign, too slow for this muscle now beating to a mere memory. So she stood still, feeling much too calm for the wrench in her gut, as the air around them shattered from shriek after piercing shriek. 

Sooyeon’s screeches dimmed first, her lungs and throat following the rest of her body in crumbling to ashy dust. The night breeze carried her away easily, leaving behind only the gleaming metal still clutched in Nayeon’s trembling hands.

Nayeon’s wails, however, continued as she fell to her knees, eyes squeezed shut. She tossed the rod away as she clamped both hands over her ears, and then against her chest. Her fingers curled into claws, blunt nails somehow tearing into the fabric of her shirt as she sunk forward, hunched against the ground.

Tzuyu raced over. She crouched next to Nayeon as her screaming subsided and laid a careful arm around Nayeon’s shoulders -- Nayeon jerked away at the contact. She whipped her head around to glare at Tzuyu with teary eyes, teeth painfully bared.

“Nayeon,” said Tzuyu, drawing back slightly. She settled on the asphalt, crossing her legs before holding both of her arms out. “I’m here.”

Nayeon stared, her body shaking with each harsh, heaving breath. When Tzuyu’s arm wrapped around her this time, Nayeon only trembled. Tzuyu pulled her in fully, guiding Nayeon’s head to rest against the crook of her neck.

“Hurts,” Nayeon whimpered.

Tzuyu closed her eyes, working her fingers through Nayeon’s tangled hair. “I know.”

They sat like that for a few more minutes. Nayeon’s choked exhales puffed against the skin of Tzuyu’s throat, her fingers clinging desperately at the front of Tzuyu’s shirt and wrinkling the fabric beyond repair. Tzuyu’s mind slowly blanked; it wasn’t in a way that her scarlet fevered dreams usually were, but she barely remembered the council members arriving in the alleyway, or being told to take Nayeon back to their apartment before the day was due to dawn.

Nayeon didn’t say much in the following days, drifting in and out of fitful sleep. Tzuyu quietly removed herself from that week’s shifts at the convenience store, instead spending her time sitting at Nayeon’s bedside or slipping under the covers to pull her close when Nayeon’s dreams seemed particularly vivid. 

Jeongyeon was practically their flatmate in the beginning, never quite able to push herself to leave even though there was nothing to be healed, physically. Eventually, Jihyo and Sana dragged her out of the apartment, with the promise to drop by regularly and provide Tzuyu with more conscious company. 

Momo came by on the second night, Mina surprisingly in tow. They brought along the jar of the lollipops that usually accompanied Tzuyu during work, although Momo’s vehement denial of having snagged the entire thing while the replacement cashier wasn’t looking left Tzuyu with her first smile in days. Momo and Mina smiled a lot, too, shoulders carefully but comfortably leaning into one another on occasion: a careful navigation of their old friendship turned new. 

Dahyun provided a steady stream of blood bags, and Chaeyoung always tagged along as part of her regular schemes to shirk her council duties. But she always laughed when she caught Tzuyu looking at her shoulder for too long, eyes crinkling as she made a show of windmilling her arm until she inevitably whacked Dahyun in the nose.

There weren’t many moments when they had the room to themselves, but Tzuyu happened to be the only one in the apartment when Nayeon finally woke up.

“Wow,” Nayeon said. With some effort, she propped herself up on one elbow and brought her other hand to her forehead. “How long was I out?”

“Five nights,” said Tzuyu, and then wondered if she shouldn’t have made it so obvious that she’d been counting. She held up the drink in her hands. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.” Nayeon sat up, accepting the cup. She drained it quickly, lowering the mug as she licked her lips. “So. It’s over, right?”

Tzuyu nodded. “She’s gone.”

“Yeah.” Nayeon paused, head tilted as if listening for something. “I can’t feel her anymore.” 

“That’s good,” said Tzuyu, lowering her gaze to the mug Nayeon was now turning in her hands.

“Tzuyu,” Nayeon said after a few moments. “When you have -- when you have those dreams, what are they like?”

Tzuyu shrugged. “Like the ones you’ve been having, probably.”

“Really?” Nayeon set the mug on the nightstand to Tzuyu’s left. “So you also have the -- the shadows, and, the ripping? And the --” Nayeon raised her hands, fingers hooked and mouth pulled into a grimace as she growled from the back of her throat.

Tzuyu laughed, reaching up to bring Nayeon’s arms down again. “Yeah, exactly like that.”

Nayeon hummed, absentmindedly slotting her fingers into the spaces between Tzuyu’s. “I didn’t think it would be so blue.”

Tzuyu blinked. “Blue?”

Nayeon shrugged. “Yeah. Blue, like all the ice in the world is concentrated in your veins, freezing your insides and chipping off your outsides, and all you can do is wait for the cold and the dark to drown you.” She paused. “It was pretty lonely.”

Tzuyu squeezed her hands. “I see.”

“I wonder if it was what Sooyeon was feeling,” Nayeon said -- and then pursed her lips like she hadn’t meant to.

“Maybe,” said Tzuyu. She glanced around their room. “Does this mean that we should repaint the walls?”

Nayeon threw her head back and laughed, full and loud. Tzuyu’s own lips curled into a grin, unstoppable by the time Nayeon had enough breath to say, “That’s alright.” She tugged at Tzuyu’s hands, and Tzuyu let go of her to climb onto the bed. “The stuff of my nightmares is everything except this kind of blue.”

Tzuyu settled next to Nayeon, angling herself so that she could throw her legs over Nayeon’s comforter-covered lap. Nayeon turned her head to face Tzuyu, eyes glittering in their bedroom light, a dark red smudge still at the corner of her upturned lips.

“Do you know,” said Tzuyu quietly, “how much I love you?”

Nayeon’s grin brightened into a thousand and one suns, and then a thousand more. She was still laughing when Tzuyu lifted a hand to wipe away the leftover blood on her mouth, before thinking better of it and reaching around to cup the back of Nayeon’s head and bring her closer. 

Their happiness was the last thing Tzuyu would ever want to kiss away. But Nayeon’s preciously delighted smile pressed against her own promised Tzuyu that -- even in the face of infinity -- there was such a thing as _impossible_.

**Author's Note:**

> almost always lurking on twitter @moonrise31


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